


Oaths

by otomriddle



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 10:42:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12479748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otomriddle/pseuds/otomriddle
Summary: Collection of drabbles written carefully (and others not quite).





	1. Chapter 1

_PROLOGUE_

“Jon Snow, it’s been a while. How are you?” Sansa said, a warm smile in her face. Jon was not used to such kindness coming from her, reason for why he kept silent for longer than was considerated polite when talking to a woman of her rank.

Not that Sansa had ever been rude to him. But she had never been kind, either.

The woman was sitting in a throne which sparkled as if made of gold, and her white silk dress fell graciously around her, gathering around her feet as if she was bathing on a river of moonlight.

“Very well, m’lady,” The man replied eventually, falling to his knee and bowing slightly, one hand over his hearth. “Indeed, it’s been a long while. We haven’t seen each other since before the war.”

“Yes. But then again, I haven’t seen any one of my family for as long as that.” She agreed, and this time they both fell silent, their thoughts on their loved ones.

Perhaps their thoughts wandered to the same part of their family - the only they shared more strongly - because when Jon looked up again, Sansa was watching him closely. 

“Have you found her?” The words scaped his lips before he could stop himself. It was a rude question, one he should’ve worded better before posing to her. But there were times his hearth would not wait for formalities.

“Maybe.” It was all she answered, but there was a light inside her eyes that made Jon stand up immediately.

“Where?” His voice was too high, but the man could not bring himself to care.

“Years ago, a little girl crossed the Narrow Sea. Nameless, without friends or protectors. It could b-”

“It is her!” Jon interrupted Sansa, passing anxiously in front of her. The woman stood as still as a rock, her head held high. “Of course she’d want to run away from this forsaken place! What was here for her, after all? Only the murderers of her family, seeking to slay her. Of course…”

A long silence followed, althought Jon was sure everyone in the Castle could hear his heartbeat.

“I am setting a small group to find her. Would you wish to join in and be their commander?” Sansa offered, and Jon stopped in his tracks, looking at her with wide eyes. The proposal was everything but expected. Although Jon knew Sansa would employ all the resources she could into finding her little sister, Jon had never thought she would trust him enough to command those same resources. “You’d have to leave the Night's Watch, however. And I know how much they mean to you. How much your _honor_ means to you.”

“But you also know how much Arya means to me. I will lead the search, and I will find her, or die trying.” Jon said, one hand over his heart. “This is my oath, one I shall keep for as long as I walk this earth.”

_EPILOGUE_

“So, you have a new oath, I hear?” The voice came out from somewhere inside his darkned and cold arranged bedroom. Jon jumped, his hand slipping effortlessly to where his sword should be, but he only grasped air.

He wasn’t allowed to walk armed in Sansa’s Castle. The man swore under his breath.

“There’s no need to fight, Jon Snow. I am not here to hurt you. If I were, you would not be aware of my presence.” The voice continued. Jon forced his eyes, trying to see amidst the darkness.

After a while he grew used to it, and could distinguish a form, sitting in his bed. She - for it was a woman’s voice - was cleaning a sword of some kind, seeming completly absorbed in the task.

“What’s your name?” He inquired, approaching slowly the place where, he knew, there was a candle.

“Now, now, that’s the wrong question, for I have many. Try again.” It was the reply, and Jon could hear a smile on her voice.

“What do you want?”

“See? That is slightly better! I wanted to see _the_ Jon Snow, famous war hero. But not only that.” She replied.

“What else do you want?” Jon asked, more to keep her talking than anything else. He finally reached the candle.

“I wanted to see whereas you would keep this promise of yours.” She completed, and then Jon lightened the candle, spreading light and shadows all over the place - the form, however, didn’t seem to care in the slightest. 

“My promisse? You mean my oath to Arya.” He said, walking in the direction of the figure, whose long dark hair served as a way to hide the face before it. Her hand, which had been moving all along on the sword, stopped suddenly. 

“Oh, Arya. It is been so long since the last time I heard this girl’s name.”

“You knew her?” Jon murmured, furrowing his eyebrows. He was now only a few feet away from the woman.

“Well, you could say so. You see, for a while - let’s say, twelve years?” The woman looked up, a tight smile on her face. “I was her.”

The air seemed to stop altogether. All of a sudden, it was like something was set free inside Jon’s heart. Something he had kept well buried for many years.

The woman now stood before him, her chin high. She was small, but her body was fully grown. Her beauty was so radiant that she could easily make front to Sansa Stark. And yet, despise all the changes, Jon did not doubt for one second it was truly Arya.

Those were her eyes, her lips, her smile. Her Needle laying on his bed.

It was all her.

And she was his.


	2. Chapter 2

The war came and went, but Arya Stark never returned home. 

Her sister rose to power as the most trusted ally of Daenerys Targaryen, and yet, despise all the resources she employed, Sansa Stark could not find her little sibling. 

Bran and Rickon conquered the North, becoming the King and Prince of Winterfell - and not even their army could find the little smiling girl who once played with them in those fields.

Winter had started, and was now as merciless as the songs promissed it would be, and yet none of this mattered to Jon. 

Because Arya Stark was not home. And that could not do.

For a long time he had though the girl to be dead, and he had never imagined he could bear such pain. But he did, and carried on. Until that one boy said Arya was alive - she could defend herself, could plan, could fight. She ran away.

But to where? And why didn’t she come back to her family - _to him_ \- after the war ended? 

Jon left the Night’s Watch. After the war and the winter and the invasions, it had seemed stupid to murder brothers who had wanted to leave. 

Unlike the deserters, however, Jon promissed to return to his duties as soon as he found Arya Stark. His brothers looked at him with farewell in their eyes.

They didn’t believe he would find her, not alive, at least. But they didn’t understand their connection.

He followed the directions those who had seen her last had given him. And the more he learnt about her actions, the more proud he would feel. Arya had had to grow up too quickly, but she did it like a wolf. 

He always knew she was made of steel and gold. But he regreted he had not been there to watch her glow. 

It took Jon months to follow her path, but he finally discoreved she had left Westeros. Left her family behind. And there his track was lost, because the ocean was pure ice, and nothing could navigate through - nor him, nor her.

That was the reason she had never returned, he finally understood.

The salt of his tears joined those of the ocean. 

Three nights he cried. In the forth, he armed himself of all the courage he could muster. 

Once he said to Sam he would have crossed oceans for Arya Stark.

Now he would.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU deserves love, too.

“So. A shot, uhu?” Arya said, crossing her arms and sitting heavily on the uncomfortable chair next to Jon’s bed.

“You know you were not supposed to be here, don’t you?” He replied, looking around anxiously to make sure they were both alone on the bedroom. It was late at night and only the cars outside could be heard every once in a while.

“Relax, they don’t know I am here. Funny how a short blonde hair can deceive people. Well, that and a fake ID. Maybe you should call me Allecta Tully, just to go along.”

“Allec- Fuck, I don’t wanna know.” Jon said, shaking his head. He stopped the movement almost immediately, pulling a face and regretting to have moved at all when the pain shot through his body.

“Are you alright? Should I call the nurse?” Arya asked, suddenly on her feet, walking to the door.

“No! I can’t take any more docs around me. Just…” He inspired, biting the inside of his mouth forcefully. “Give me a sec.”

The girl stopped, one hand on the doorknob, wating his reaction. Soon enough his face regained colour, and the sweat that had broken on his front gave away. He sighed and she approached the bed slowly.

“I still think maybe we should-”

“No more doctors, Ary-Allecta.” He interrupted, looking at her intensively. The girl rolled her eyes, but a small smile was playing in the corners of her lips when she sat again, only this time pulling the chair closer to the bed.

“Now, how did that happen?” She asked, pointing at his chest, hidden by dressings.

A long silence followed, so long she thought the boy had fallen asleep.

“I’d rather not talk about it.” He answered eventually.

“Why not?” Arya inquired, her voice louder than she had intended. That only made him smile, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Just because.”

Arya sighed, but didn’t push him. He’d talk in time, she knew. He always did.

Her hand travelled from her lap to his hair, and she caressed lovingly the locks of black curls. 

“Honestly, when was the last time you got a hair cut?” She wondered, laughing while her fingers got tangled on his head, but she never stopped the movement. Jon snorted.

“Last time we saw each other, probably.” He muttered. The boy moved, laying on his side with a heavy groan, and the sweat again broke on his front, but now Arya simply wiped it away with her cold fingers, smiling down gently at him. Their eyes were locked, and she realized again all the little things about Jon that she had missed since she ran away.

He had more freckles now, she thought.

She wondered if he knew that. He probably didn’t. 

His hand found her free one, and they held tightly.

“You know I missed you more than no one?” Jon murmured, closing his eyes and trying to supress a yawn. 

“Well, I will have to find this no one and murder her, if she could compete against me for your heart.” Arya answered, and the last thing Jon did before falling asleep was laugh at her.


	4. Chapter 4

The girl talking to his superior was a pretty one. She had dark hair, red lips, and pale skin. Even thought it was one of the coldest nights Jon had experienced since he came to the Wall (and the Gods knew he had experienced many), she didn't seem to even realize the chill wind that messed her hair relentlessly. Jon looked at her petite form for a time. It was hard to say, thanks to all the layers of clothes she was wearing, but the boy could bet there was a woman’s body behind all those black furrs borrowed from his brothers. She seemed to be on her late teens, around what would be Arya’s age now.

__

_"If she is still alive"_ a part of him completed, and Jon swallowed nervously, shaking his head. He said to himself Arya was still alive. He knew the chances were slim, he knew he was being optimistic - or stubborn, as others would call it. But Arya was smart, quick, and she had Needle. She was alive; he could feel it.

Jon had been waiting in the shadows for what felt like eternity until the girl finally turned and faced him fully. She didn't seem surprised to see him there, but her stern expression warmed suddenly at his sight. Suddenly, Jon felt something strangely familiar pulling at his hearth.

“Arya?” He gasped, his voice barely over a whisper. The girl smiled and he knew right there and then it was her. His little sister had came back to him.

“Jon.” She answered, her voice exactly how he remembered even if everything else wasn't. She threw herself at his arms and he hugged tightly, sweeping her feet out the ground as he did. She was so incredible light, just how she was before, but this time he could _feel_ that she had grown a woman’s body. Arya sniffed at his neck, and they said at the same time.

“I thought I would never see you again!” 

Jon and Arya’s laugh echoed throught the cold night.


	5. Chapter 5

“Have I changed so much? To the point you don’t even recognize your own… Cousin?” Arya said, hesitating in the last word. She was about to say sister, but remembered at the very last second they were no longer siblings. Jon Snow did not exist anymore, much like the rest of her family. Instead of dying, thought, he simply changed: he was now Aegon Targaryen, Dragon Rider and King in the North.

Jon’s face softened once he finally recognized her. 

“Arya!” He smiled widely, closing the distance between them with a few steps and taking her on his arms. “It’s been so long. So, so long…” He said against her hair, his voice but a whisper. She sighed on his neck. His smell hadn't changed, she realized. Maybe, not everything was lost.

“Yes.” She agreed, closing her eyes for a brief moment and allowing herself to be brought back to years ago, when it was only him and her, laughing together in Winterfell, no worries, no wars, no blood on their hands. Just for this once, she allowed herself to be Arya Stark again. “Too long.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Arya? What are you doing out here? It’s freezing cold!” Jon exclaimed, approaching the girl who stood alone against the falling snow. The voices inside the Castle could still be heard from where they were, talking merrily of the future, hoping for the change.

“I am just looking at the stars. I haven’t seen such a beautiful night since when I was a little girl, long before the War…” Her voice died, and she shivered.

The man came near her, taking off his black coat and placing it on her bare shoulders. He, too, looked at the sky, smiling.

“Yes, it is indeed a beautiful night. It suits the moment, I suppose. Your wedding… Your father would be proud.” Jon said, even if he himself didn’t believe in that for a moment. He crossed his arms to protect himself from the cold wind. Arya laughed.

“Oh, yes. He would be delighted to see me wed Theon Greyjoy.” She shook her head, staring at the ground. “I know he was the one who gave us Winterfell back, I know how much he means to Sansa, I just… I never imagined myself ending like this.” She completed, pointing at her own figure, her white gown contrasting with the night sky. “When I thought about my future, marriage was never an option. Well, not with him, at least…” She looked at Jon with the corner of her eyes for a second, before once again turning them to the sky. They both fell silent for a long moment.

“Then run away with me.” Jon suddenly whispered, swallowing nervously. He was watching Arya carefully, and saw how her eyes grew wide at the suggestion. “Ran away with me, Arya. Let’s go to the Wall. Beyond the Wall. Let’s cross the Narrow Sea. I don’t care where… We would manage everything as long as we were together. Fuck! We managed it apart, just with the _hope_ of being reunited again.” It was Arya’s turn to look at Jon. The girl blinked, once, twice, and sighed. He distinguished the flicker of tears before she looked away once more.

“Oh, Jon. I wish I could. You have no idea how I long things were different… I wish Mother was here, and Father. Bran, and Rickon, and Sansa. But they aren’t. There aren’t any Starks left to stay in Winterfell but me. And there must always-”

“Be a Stark in Winterfell.” Jon completed, a sad smile on his face.

He once again looked at the sky full of starts. 

It was a beautiful night, after all.


	7. Chapter 7

“Excuse me, but who are you? Ladies are not to walk in the Wall. It's very dangerous here.” Jon said, furrowing his eyebrows. Arya smiled softly. She knew women were not to be there, of course. Even less herself, the lost Stark girl, long dead if she believed the tales. 

But she was wearing a new face now. A face that had not seen all the things Arya had seen. But a face that remembered nonetheless. 

The girl also knew that no one would recognize her as Ned’s daughter with that face, not even Jon, her one true best friend. What she did not know was that it would sting so badly.

“For the Gods…” Jon whispered suddenly, inhaling sharply. His eyes grew wide as he quickly closed the distance between him and the silent girl in front of him. “Arya? Arya is that you?” He was a breath away from her face now, his hands on her shoulders, shaking her lightly.

The smile fell from her lips as she looked at Snow, her eyes wide. No one should have known. No one. 

“How did-” She wasn’t able to finish her sentence once Jon embraced her, lifting the girl from the ground with the force of it. She could do nothing but laugh and hug back. It had been so long, after all - so long since _anyone_ touched her so affectionately; even longer since _he_ did.

“Do you really think you could just smile at my face and I would not recognize you? Have a little more faith in me!” He answered her unspoken question against her hair. He put her down gently, but kept their proximity. “What happened? Where have you been? How did you change… So much?” At this, Jon touched the face - her face - lightly. Arya closed her eyes for a brief second, leaning on the contact a moment before allowing herself to respond.

“It is a long story. Very long. All you need to know is that I am fine. Don’t worry,” She continued when Jon opened his mouth intending to talk. “This is not my… Real face. My true form is, you could say, hidden and safe."

Jon looked at her astonished for a long moment, his mouth open as he tried to say something but nothing came to his lips. His eyes never left Arya’s. Finally, it was her voice that broke the silence.

“I came here for a reason, dear brother,” Arya started, turning her back on Jon and hugging herself. “Do you remember how father always said ‘winter is coming’ like it was the most important thing he could ever tell us?! When I was young, I did not understand the reason. I thought: yes father, we all know winter is coming, and we know it can be bad, but why keep reminding us of this every day?” The girl laughed at her naivety. She missed her father greatly. Arya turned again to face Jon. He was a few steps away, still watching. Still waiting. “I understand now. It is not only about the winter. It is about remembering. Never forget. Because once you forget what is coming, you also forget you must be strong. You become weak. And then winter comes and ends you, because you forgot.” Jon seemed to suddenly understand it. Perhaps he realized it all by himself, too. Arya pulled her sword out, showing Needle to him. This made Jon smile, an old light shinning in his eyes for a split second, only to be gone again. He approached the girl slowly, his arms reaching out for her. Arya accepted him. “Winter has came back home, Jon."


End file.
